ONE MAN'S PUNK
To live freely or to die. To enjoy life without constraint in society weighed down by the dreariness of routine.
Being punk means adhering to an ideology, a movement, a culture.
It means belonging to a group, a brotherhood that is tuned to the burning revolt of its followers. It means living in a world apart, in a blur of urban violence and addiction, far from capitalism and overconsumption.
It’s about belonging to an autonomous movement born out of the rejection of a system that makes one feel alien, that one despises.
It’s the protest of those hostile to norms and rules of a system that looks down on those who have nothing.
It’s looks that clash with the esthetic conventions of the masses -- baffling, provocative and eccentric but accessible to all.
It’s the experimentation that leads to self-realization in a look that belongs to us, away from the glares of people, that sets off a sense of personal and social freedom.
It’s living life fully and with passion to newly invented ways of thinking and acting.
Years have gone by and left me with many memories but the movement sticks to me like glue. I’m 46 years old. Self-sufficiency is still my highest value. I despise the established order and hierarchy.
I raised my children to “do-it-yourself.” I never woke up thinking that “punk, I was.” Never will I go to bed not being punk anymore.
There are still years ahead, possibilities for non-conformists. Punk’s not dead!
Sandra Gauthier
